


It's okay by me.

by steamtrains



Category: Starlight Express - Phillips/Stilgoe/Webber
Genre: Crushes, I'll add more tags as it goes on, Kissing, M/M, also no comeback is there, because i'm diseased, it's actually elektra and canoose, there is a LOT of kissing like an excessive amount. im sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23285002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steamtrains/pseuds/steamtrains
Summary: The Red Caboose is known for miles around for taking money to cheat the races. Electra just needs his help, but Caboose has a different payment in mind...
Relationships: CB | Caboose/Electra (Starlight Express)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey- watch your step, electric!” the Red Caboose exclaimed as Electra narrowly missed rolling himself into one of Caboose’s weird workbenches. It seemed like every workbench, table, or shelf was covered in something, like newspapers, poker chips, playing cards, or anything else Caboose was able to get his sticky little fingers on. The brake van’s station was crowded-- more crowded and cramped than anything Electra was used to. And it was too small. Along the walls were streaks of red paint: violent slashes and splatters, almost like they were thrown into the design hurriedly. The more Electra looked at them, the more he hoped it was just a colorful design choice. Just paint. He hated it. Electra wanted to leave. 

He huffed a little and crossed his arms. “Caboose, I don’t want to be here longer than I have to. Shut up.” Electra made his way over to where Caboose was sitting. Disgusting. Caboose was leaning his creaky wooden chair back lazily and his legs were propped up on the table, his hands behind his head. Starlight, Electra thought. He’s mocking me. He sat in another chair across from the other. “I’m only here because I need your help in the race. Nothing more.” The Caboose’s grin widened and it sent a chill down Electra’s spine. 

“Oh, no, electric.” Caboose brought his legs down from the table one at a time. He stood and leaned his body across the table, balancing himself with his fingertips on the wood paneling. It was slow, methodical. Electra’s breath hitched a little in his throat. It made Electra scared. It made Electra a little excited. “Everyone needs me. But you’re different. You want me. You want me to help you because you. Want. Me.” Caboose’s ruby eyes tore holes through Electra. He was close enough that Electra could feel his breath on his face. 

Electra scowled. A burst of static electricity shot out of him and hit Caboose square on the metal tip of his nose. The brake van scrunched his nose and shut his eyes tight. He squeezed his lips shut to try and help ignore the pain. It was like a rabbit. He almost looked like a child, Electra figured, and just for a second, that Caboose was not a wanted criminal. He was not a money-loving murderer. He was just a train. And yet, when he opened his eyes again, and those cherry-red knives bore deep into Electra’s own, and that silver-lined grin returned to tease him, any trace or façade of innocence was swept away with the wind. “You disgust me,” Electra stated. 

Caboose stood up straight, taking off his hat and pressing it to his chest in mock offense. “I’m hurt, truly I am. You haven’t even stayed for tea.” He pouted. Electra rolled his eyes. Starlight, could he get more unbearable? 

“You make me sick just looking at you.”

“Then leave.” Caboose put his hat back on. 

“What?!”

The Red Caboose smirked. And then grinned. And then laughed. More and more and more and more and more. “Then leave, electric train. I’m not the one that needs you. If you really don’t want me, then leave.” The Caboose cackled some more and Electra slammed his fist on the table. 

“Shut up!” Electra yelled. Caboose flinched. He actually, honest to Starlight, flinched at the sound of Electra’s voice. His laugh stopped immediately. The grin disappeared. Electra frowned, taken aback. Was it all really a façade? Electra looked the Caboose up and down. He was almost frozen in fear. Like a rabbit. Again. 

Slowly, the Caboose returned once more to his weaselly, strange self. He shook his head a little to snap himself out of whatever trance he was in and he smacked his hand down to match what Electra had done. “Well?!” he asked, voice cracking ever so slightly. “Spit it out! What do you want from me, then?!” 

Electra did nothing but stare at him for a couple seconds. Are you okay? he wanted to ask. I’m sorry, he wanted to say. “How much for you to take out Rusty?” he actually asked, pulling out a bit of money. 

Caboose blinked a couple times. and then smiled that signature grin again. “Oh, you’re baaad, electric.” He rolled himself around the table until he stood above where Electra sat. Electra stood. They were face to face again. “The price for you? Free.”

“Bullshit. I know how you work.”

“I wasn’t done, you battery powered insult of an engine.” He stepped even closer. “No money. One kiss.”

Electra stepped back. “What?!”

“That’s your payment. I’ll take that little steamer out. For a few seconds with those lips.” He stared at Electra expectantly, rolling a couple inches back and forth while waiting. “We have a deal, electric?” 

Electra considered it. He looked at Caboose’s silver-painted lips, and his crimson red eyes, and his perfect little teeth. The little dot of metal on his nose that tickled with electricity a little earlier. His stupid hat that matched the red streaks on the walls and the strange little wiggles he did as he awaited Electra’s answer. 

And so Electra reached up and removed Caboose’s ugly hat, revealing the scarf he always wore over his hair. A couple dark brown curls peeked out from under the fabric. And Electra leaned in to whisper into Caboose’s ear, “It’s a deal.” He brought his face close to Caboose’s, feeling the brake van’s breath quicken a little with excitement. “And call me Electra, would you, dear?”

And as they locked lips, Electra’s hand twisting in Caboose’s scarf and Caboose’s fingers tangled in Electra’s couplers, Electra thought to himself that maybe, maybe, one kiss wouldn’t be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is reaaaaally self indulgent i think. i just like this ship a lot. i hope you enjoy !


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Starlight, Caboose is experiencing emotions. Also: secrets.

_ Oh, _ so electric trains are like  _ that. _ Caboose could feel the strange lightning that shot through Electra very clearly now that the two were pressed against each other. Admittedly, electric engines were relatively new to this trainyard. Caboose had never been with one before. But, oh, now? Now, as Caboose’s arms wrapped around the toned body that was trained, no,  _ built  _ for racing? Now, as the excitement charged Electra up so much that he sparked with static electricity just like an old television? Now, as the whirring of the fans inside his electric chest grew faster and louder, like a heartbeat or a fire? Caboose thought he might never, ever, ever, take anything less. 

He’d meant it as a joke, if he was being honest. One kiss. Or not. The little steamer didn’t stand a chance anyway, so it was an easy job. If Electra had declined then hey, maybe Caboose would have asked for some money instead. No big deal. Caboose just wanted to see him squirm. But Electra accepted. That graceful, suave, confident, beautiful train. He accepted Caboose’s offer. One kiss. A few seconds with those lips. It shook Caboose down to his wheels. 

And,  _ Starlight _ , those  _ lips _ . Those lips that melted Caboose’s framing and tickled Caboose’s smile and sent more than just lightning through Caboose’s system. Something about them, in them, could make Caboose forget about anything and everything. No race, no Rusty, no money, just Electra and Caboose and the wooden floor they stood on. Caboose tried to remind himself it was strictly business. 

Caboose’s fingers danced upwards from Electra’s couplers to his shoulders. The studs on Electra’s shoulder pieces were perfectly even. Perfectly exact. Like pixels on a screen, Caboose figured. Not that he would know. Those fingers climbed up until they were in the fiber-optic fan of hair that stood aggressively on Electra’s head. Oh, that hair was  _ filled  _ with sparks and zaps of electricity that tickled and numbed Caboose’s fingers enough that he almost laughed. Almost. 

It had to have been more than “just a few seconds” now. It felt like forever. Like nothing else would happen in the world. Oh, bliss or happiness or something else ungraspable to this brake van, stay for just a little while longer. 

Caboose felt a tug at his head and his eyes shot open, catching a glimpse of the electric’s ivory face. Slowly, though, he let his eyes drift closed as he realized the tugging was Electra pulling at his headscarf. Only  _ just  _ pulling. Tugging hard enough for a little fun, but not enough to pull it off. How polite. 

That’s how Caboose would describe Electra! Polite. Methodical tugs at his headscarf, light touches along his sides and back, steady and sure breaths that smelled like the inside fan of a computer. Electra’s body was polite. 

Oh, it was like racing. Or it was like crashing. Or it was like speeding down a track with no brakes and no cares and nothing but wind and couplers and wheels and smiles and-

And it stopped. 

Electra pushed off him, catching his breath a little. And  _ that  _ was like starving. It felt like everything in Caboose’s world was ripped away from him. He was stripped of everything that made him whole, that kept him sane. There was nothing in the world but Electra, and Electra just separated himself from Caboose. Separation. It was beautiful moments of togetherness and completion, and then separation. Caboose yearned for just one second in those arms again. But he’d never show it. 

“That’s it then, huh, Electra?” The name felt foreign on Caboose’s lips. Calling him Electric kept the conversation strictly business. Kept them  _ separated.  _ It was off the table now, Caboose supposed. He rolled backwards to give the engine some space. 

Electra only stared at him. “Wh…” he started, hesitant to ask something, Caboose presumed. Caboose found himself grinning, like always. Electra was just staring. Was he in awe? Caboose almost laughed before Electra formed a sentence. “Your hair is  _ beautiful _ .”

Caboose’s grin dropped. “My  _ what?”  _ He felt upwards toward his scarf and sure enough, a lot more of the curls than usual were popping out of the scarf. Oh damn, oh damnit. Electra had seen. 

It wasn’t a religious thing, nor was it anything related to his job or his status. Caboose just wore the scarf to  _ hide  _ his hair. It was just a nuisance, having curly brown locks that framed his head like a little cloud of fluff. It made him look like a damned  _ clown.  _ Perhaps what he might have once been. Not what he was today. 

Caboose’s hands went instinctively up to his scarf. “No,  _ no _ , no it’s not. It’s disgusting. Shut up.” He scrambled to fix the scarf but damn, he realized he’d have to take the whole thing off just to fix it. Oh. Why today? Why now? Why in front of that damned electric-

“I think I like it,” said Electra. “A lot.”

Caboose froze. He looked into Electra’s eyes. Sincere. No no no, this was all wrong. Every engine hated Caboose. Every engine couldn’t stand to be around Caboose. No engine would ever compliment such a violent brake truck. Nobody. It must have been a sick joke. A cruel prank by an electric asshole. Caboose searched and scanned Electra’s face for any trace of ridicule. Any single trace. But he found none. 

Did he like Caboose’s hair? Did Electra truly see something promising in the soft, vulnerable curls of a weaker, cheekier caboose?

Caboose couldn’t believe it.  _ Wouldn’t  _ believe it. 

But his hands gripped the top of his own scarf. And slowly, he pulled back the black fabric. And the curls bounced into place in a funny little mass around his head. 

“There it is, Electra.” Caboose rolled backward until he hit the wall. “And that’s it. You made your payment, so go.”  _ But don’t go.  _ “I’ll see you at the race.”

Electra pursed his lips,  _ those _ lips, and looked to the side. He was thinking. Caboose sighed internally. Oh, the electric was really leaving. 

However, Electra rolled forward to close the space between them once more. “No,” he said, “I don’t think I’ve made my payment.”

“What?”

Electra’s gloved hand reached around Caboose and tangled in his hair, sending Caboose’s mind spinning. “I think the services you provide deserve a little bonus. As a treat.”

So, with Electra’s arms around him and Electra’s fingers twisted in his coiled hair, Caboose melted once more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehehhehehehe


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the big race.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna be honest i KNOW this deviates a lot from canon. thts why it's a fanfic. SO what i'm trying to say is basically i'm winging it in terms of plot oh my god. have fun

The Red Caboose stared at his ceiling. It had been no less than three days, and yet he could still feel the ghost of those electric arms in his, those electric _lips_ in his.

But if he was being honest, he should have asked for money.

He sat up, got off his bed, and rolled over to the mirror. Starlight, he’d slept with his shoulder pieces on again. That was going to hurt later. Boy, he thought, what a bad night to have such a shit night’s sleep. It was an important day. Not the kind of day for distractions like electric fingertips and features.

He picked up his silver lipstick and began painting his lips. Finished, Caboose smiled wide. These silver lips. He thought of silver coins and silver bars and _silver-lined hickeys on Electra’s neck_ and silver chains and _silver lip stains on Electra’s face_ and silver buttons. Or something. He dropped his smile and turned his attention to his hair. Oh, his hair. Brown curls with dark streaks and with _Electra’s hands twisting in them._ Caboose frowned. What was it Electra had called his hair? Beautiful? 

Wipe out Rusty; that’s what he needed to do. Caboose shook his head free of any thoughts about electric trains. He almost hesitated while tying his black scarf firmly over his hair. Almost. Caboose set up his radio headset, planted his red fedora on his head, and smiled into the mirror once more. 10-4, Red Caboose, it’s almost time for the race. 

Breakfast, he’d heard, was the most important meal of the day. However, looking into the fridge that contained nothing more than maybe half a jug of orange juice and a bag of shredded cheese, he wasn’t so sure. Maybe this is why they started making electric trains, Caboose guessed. They didn’t need to eat. Oh, _Starlight_ did Caboose wish he’d asked for money that day. Or something like food. _Something_ that would last him until his next job. _But those lips, those eyes, those couplers._ The Red Caboose sighed. No money, no food, sad Caboose. Jeez. Occasional dinners with the rest of the freight could only take him so far. Maybe he’d have to start attending those more often.

Still, he couldn’t quite race on an empty stomach. Betraying everything that anyone had ever told him, Caboose simply grabbed and downed a handful of cheese and set off for the day.

\------------

It had been easy enough to convince the steam engine to race with him, surprisingly. Like, Caboose knew Rusty was vulnerable, but for the _engine_ to approach _him_? Not the other way around? It made Caboose laugh to just think about it.What a dumb little rookie.

The day before the race, Rusty had actually _actively seeked out_ Caboose. Come on! How stupid could you get? It went like this:

“You’re.. the red caboose, right?” The caboose frowned and turned around. Rusty wasn’t a rare sight in the freight yard, but he would never have been caught dead talking to Caboose. Or so he thought. 

“Sure I am, steamer. What’s it to ya?” He plastered a little grin on his face to look… friendly? 

“Well, um…” Rusty twisted his hands nervously, almost avoiding eye contact. “None of the other freight will race with me, but um… Someone said you never turn down a race.” He finally locked eye contact with Caboose, who promptly looked past Rusty toward the other freight. Well, _someone_ is looking out for him. How… great. 

“They were right, steamer!” Caboose’s eyes glistened, glistened, glistened, as he looked at Rusty. _Easy!_ Caboose’s mind screamed. “Are we racing tomorrow?”

Rusty looked taken aback, like he hadn’t expected Caboose to be so eager. Then, he smiled back. “Yep! Tomorrow! I’ll see you at the track, then?”

“10-4, steam train!”

And so it was. Caboose arrived promptly on time for the race, where engines, coaches, components, and freight alike seemed to mingle there. The ones who were racing seemed about ready to start their pre-race stretches. But no matter how hard he looked, Caboose couldn’t find…

Rusty stood alone, preoccupied by staring at the first class coach. Pearl. Caboose rolled his eyes and started to roll himself over to where the steamer was standing. 

A voice through the radio waves halted him like a wall in the road. _“I thought I told you I liked your hair down.”_ Caboose’s hands started shaking. He knew that voice. He could _taste_ that voice. 

“Electra?” he asked into the mic, barely a whisper.

 _“Don’t bother looking for me. It would be a shame if anyone found out who you were really working for.”_ Out of the corner of his eye, Caboose could see the components all huddled around Electra, but he dared not move his head. He decided to keep on moving toward Rusty. _“Race well, beautiful. And have your fun.”_

Caboose couldn’t help but smile stupidly. Oh, Starlight. Oh, _Starlight!_ He was not in love with the electric. There was no way. There was no… It was impossible. It wasn’t lovers, it was just… 

_“I’ll see you after the race. I’ll be happy to greet you with a little more… ah… payment.”_ Electra laughed in that second and it was enough to make Caboose’s insides spin. Electric thoughts danced around in Caboose’s head like little ballerinas of light and ecstasy. So, just maybe, lovers. 

\-----

“Hey! Rustbucket!” Caboose managed to rip Rusty’s attention away from Pearl to him. “Good morning!” he greeted cheerfully. 

“Oh! Good mornin’, Red Caboose! You ready for the big race?” Starlight, the steamer talked like a cliché. Caboose laughed.

“Sure am! What do you say we start warming up?”

So they did. They made sure to hit the proper pre-race warmups and stretches they needed to. Caboose ached from sleeping the night before with both his shoulder pieces on, but he got through it. Barely. 

About halfway through, Rusty stopped the both of them. “Ah, wait.”

Caboose stood mid-stretch. “What?”

“I uh,” the steam train rummaged around in his pockets for something, then pulled it out. Caboose was… actually kind of amazed, staring at the little steamer’s hand. A perfect little wad of cash. “I was told I was supposed to pay you? For racing with me?” He held out the cash expectantly, patiently. 

Caboose took it and stuffed it in his pocket. “Oh, um, thanks.” He wasn’t expecting this one. He just wanted to crash the guy, nothing more. Usually, when a client actually pays him to crash someone else, he never charges the racer. _But Electra didn’t pay cash-_ “Hey steamer, who told you that, anyway?”

“Electra,” Rusty replied, nonchalant. He went back to his stretches, like nothing happened. _Like nothing happened._ Caboose was a little bewildered. But he continued his warmup too. Like nothing happened. 

When Rusty was out of earshot, Caboose whispered the tiniest “thank you,” into his radio, hoping that it would reach electric ears. 

\-----

“Control! Control! Race time minus one minute! Race time minus one minute!” All the engines had their helmets on. Caboose wondered why trains like him or Pearl or Dinah never wore helmets. After all, they raced too. He adjusted his grip on Rusty’s coupler. They were pretty worn, probably since they were used super often for Rusty’s work as a shunter. 

Would be a shame if Caboose just… 

Slipped

Let go. 

When they went around the curve. 

And Rusty tumbled down the cliffside. 

A damn shame, Caboose thought, a sick smile on his face. Oh yeah, what a shame if the race had to stop because the poor little underdog wasn’t ready to race right. Caboose laughed to himself. 

“Trains gone!” yelled Control. The trains sped off. 

And Caboose felt the cool wind on his face and arms. And the speed of the train in front of him went faster and faster, probably due to the lack of brakes. And that lovely cool wind blew faster and nicer on Caboose’s tired body. And they approached the curve. 

And Caboose let go, slamming the brakes early enough to catch himself in a screeching halt and see Rusty fall. 

Caboose laughed. And laughed. And laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed. 

“Time up! Time up! What’s going on down there?”

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes.... cabooses that are evil..... are better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nobody:  
> me: well, i am going to ignore canon now.

Electra’s morning had been so… uneventful until the race. It seemed like every race was the same: wake up, put on some clothes and armor, fix the makeup, and leave with components trailing closely behind. For a racing superstar, things began to get really boring after so many races. Routine, routine, routine, win after win after win. It had almost become a chore at this point.

But this race was different. Electra would be racing in the final of the championship of the world. Did he have something to prove? No! He was already the best! The superstar challenger: the mega-star, mega-watt. He had this race! He’d win in a heartbeat! Nobody could ever stand in his way. No diesels, no steamers, no… cabooses.

Evil little cabooses who mocked his every move. Rude brake vans who asked for kisses and never said please. Twisted trucks whose perfect little doll faces were enough to make… electric engines… swoon.

There was something wrong with himself, Electra decided as he touched up the paint on his face that morning. He remembered going into the brake van’s station disgusted. Not amused, or excited, or enamored. The little shit was just playing with his feelings for a laugh. Nothing more. The caboose was a disease, and that was that.

But ah, ruby eyes and cherry gloves and that stuid scarlet hat. They clung to Electra’s brain like sticky sweet lollipops to the hottest summer sidewalk. The way Caboose had smiled, genuinely, when he looked at Electra. The shred of strange, fragile vulnerability hidden under that red paneling that Electra knew Caboose wouldnt have shown anyone else. And the way a short little brake van could make Electra feel like he was flying, just by having the truck in his arms. It hurt like the devil to be gone from him.

He was happy Dinah was willing to answer any questions he had about the caboose. And yet, she was so… oblivious to what Caboose really did. She knew him as a friend, not as a racer. Interestingly enough, Electra found that the two were actually quite close. If one had a problem, the other listened. And if one was short on cash, well, maybe Electra felt like he needed to lend just a little bit of a helping hand.

\-----

It was a shame the “race” had gone so perfectly. A shame to Rusty, maybe. But perhaps a victory to those who wanted it most.

\-----

“Oh no! Race cancelled! Rusty needs time to recover! Race cancelled! Re-run in three days!”

Caboose’s laugh was the farthest thing from kind. It was vile; little high notes strung together in a demented staccato that always rang loudly and sharply wherever it infected. There was a special kind of arrogance dripping from each little note that was enough to make anyone feel at least a little insulted. And yet, somehow, Electra found it something… almost sweet. Maybe endearing. Saccharine and fear-inducing. Although, the two of them standing over the busted and rusted up old steam train could probably make any situation sweeter.

Electra’s eyes were fixated on Rusty. Greaseball skidded to a stop somewhere to Electra’s right and Electra ripped his gaze away from the steamer to see him. “You sly little fucker.” He jabbed a finger into Caboose’s chest, making him back up just an inch. “What did you do this time?”

“Nothin’. Honest!” Caboose grinned. A strange kind of fire burned behind his words as he spoke to Greaseball. Electra could just hear it. He didn’t dare look at the brake van, though. “It was all Rusty,” said Caboose, a strange emphasis on the steamer’s name. Caboose laughed again and Greaseball glanced down in a moment of horror.

Rusty was near unconscious. He wasn’t dead, of course. There would be no more race if he was dead. But the dents, the scratches, and all other damage was so that he literally wouldn’t be able to race until the three days had passed. He coughed weakly and Pearl, who had been behind Greaseball, rushed to kneel by his side. Dinah peeked from behind Electra as well, but she didn’t say a word. The vile little caboose snickered again.

“Oh.” Greaseball said. “It was just an accident.” He backed off. Electra could sense that Greaseball had seen this all before, but it looked like he’d never expected it to happen to Rusty. And not at the final of the championship of the world. The diesel turned and made eye contact with Electra, and Electra could tell from the look in his eyes that the champion engine knew who’d gone and done it. Who’d slipped the Red Caboose a pretty payment and sent him on his merry, violent way. Greaseball shook his head, likely to get the thought out of his mind. “Rusty did it. He caused the wreck.”

“Rusty did it.” Electra repeated bluntly, firmly. “He caused the wreck.” Electra finally mustered up the willpower to look at Caboose. The freight car was returning the look directly, failing to resist another bubble of laughter from inside. His crimson gloved hand was shielding his mouth delicately, hiding those pretty little teeth of his.

“Hello Electric,” Caboose regarded, breathless.

Electra blinked. Starlight, the Red Caboose was even prettier than Electra remembered. Whispered radio conversations were easy enough, with a faceless figure on the other side of the radio waves. It was different to speak to Caboose in person. Amidst all the drama, the chaos, the violence of crashing trains, Caboose’s grinning face couldn’t have looked more… pristine. His handsome features existed in such a way that it baffled Electra as to how he could ever be such a wanted criminal. A self-proclaimed murderer. There had to be something more to that.

“Hey! Wires-for-brains!” Electra snapped out of his thoughts and became quite aware of Caboose speaking him firmly. Caboose rapped his knuckles on his red fedora. “Anyone home? Jeez!” Caboose took off his hat and twirled it around his finger, “You should really say hi back when someone says hi to you. HELLO? It’s only common courtesy! You celebrities really are rude, aren’t you, you sorry excuse for a calculator?” His smile mocked Electra. Then, like something of a ventriloquist, a whisper from unmoving lips touched Electra’s ears over the radio. “I’m sorry about this. Play along. You hate me.”

Electra frowned, shocked. “Wh-- hey! What did you just call me?” Electra crossed his arms. “Don’t be so crass, brute,” he huffed. “I…” He glanced once more at Rusty, who was now being taken care of by the marshals. A bit of a crowd had actually begun to gather, Electra’s components included. “...I don’t want to know what happened here. But you frighten me. There’s no more business for me here,” he said, ending the conversation.

Electra snapped his fingers, and all his components looked up at him. “Let’s go.” They all hooked on behind Dinah and skated away, leaving the scene behind, without looking back at the damned caboose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry this is so late i am just evil


End file.
